by Abigail Owen
“What was that for?” she asked Brand, staring hard at the back of his head.
“Password for the sentries.”
She looked around for the sentries, but saw none.
“Hold on,” Brand said.
She obeyed and gripped her spike harder with her arms, still not using her sliced hands. Please let them be almost there.
A few seconds later, seemingly as one, the dragons dove. The angle wasn’t so steep she couldn’t stay seated, but steep enough that she felt the rush, and the fear of falling again tightened her stomach to cramping. Brand tucked his wings in closer, his body elongating to arrow toward the ground.
Kasia held in her screams. No way was she squealing like a sissy in front of all these flying shifters. Eventually, they got close enough to the ground that it seemed to be rushing up at her. If the wind weren’t whipping all around her she’d think she was already in a nightmare about her earlier experience.
“Ummm, Brand…” Damn she hated how weak she sounded in her head.
He didn’t speak and didn’t slow. Kasia couldn’t see around his bulk to know for sure where they were headed.
Unfortunately, the closer they got to the ground, the more panic crawled all over her. Just as a yelp crept up her throat, they leveled off, cruising above the thick forest of trees, the piney scent of the needles stirred by the torrent of air created by her own personal squadron of dragons. Then, as they neared mountains, the land rose sharply up.
In accord with the shift in topography, the dragons flew up the side of the mountain, then passed through a gaping hole in the rock—a natural canyon. Brand and the others followed, banking through the twists and turns of the canyon walls.
“Won’t people see us?” She didn’t think to keep the question to herself, voicing it aloud.
“Not here. Once we’re inside the canyon walls, we’re magically protected. Invisible to the human eye.”
“Again with the handy tricks.” How her mother kept them secret as long as she had, given all that dragons could do, was a miracle.
“Evolution. Humans once hunted dragons to the point of extinction. Only by hiding among them in our human forms did we survive. That and with the help of witches and other magic-wielding creatures.”
“What? No unicorns? Maybe a leprechaun or two?”
“You have to catch one first,” Brand deadpanned.
The dragon closest to them on her right, one almost a turquoise color, snorted, smoke trailing from his nostrils.
“Did he just laugh at me?” she demanded of Brand. And on second thought… “Did he hear you?” They’d need some kind of signal when he was on open mic channel versus just talking with her.
“You’ll have to ask her. Arden is female.”
Kasia looked closer. Sure enough, the dragon was smaller and sleeker than the others. A female-born dragon? Or a made mate?
“Sorry!” Kasia called across the expanse of nothing separating them.
The turquoise dragon rumbled a sound, and Brand rumbled back. “And she apologizes for laughing.”
“That’s okay.” Kasia thought about it for a moment. “Is there an easy way to tell gender in dragon form?”
“Is my mascara not showing?” a female voice rang through Kasia’s head. She winced but didn’t say anything about the volume as the dragons around them all shared rumbling chuckles.
Great. She was a sideshow, the outsider among them. Not a dragon. Not raised in this strange world or even on this continent for the most part. In other words, a freak. Fantastic. What a moment to make that realization.
She kept that bit to herself and forced herself to laugh along with them. “Sorry if my questions are silly, but I learn fast.”
So suck it.
Before anyone could respond, the two dragons above her and Brand swooped down to fly in front, forming a single-file line. Kasia watched in mute horror as they headed straight for the wall, but Brand followed them without hesitation. Then, to her astonishment, it seemed as though the canyon walls…shifted.
An optical illusion.
Rather than slamming into rock and plummeting to their deaths, they circled around what seemed to be a cylindrical curve in the rock, with only 10 percent or so open to the rest of the mountain. Below them, she caught a glimpse of a raised, circular platform formed out of the mountain walls and emerging from a large cavern. People stood at the edges, waiting.
After circling down, all eleven dragons, including Brand, flared their wings wide, slowing their forward progress to hover for a moment before landing softly practically in unison.
Each of the other dragons immediately shifted into their human form. Brand did not. Instead, he lowered his body so that she might climb down first.
Trying not to appear as stiff and awkward as her muscles—locked into position after hours of flight—not to mention her still-bloody hands, actually were, she swung her leg over and climbed off. Then Brand, too, made the transition.
Strangely, the others who’d flown with them didn’t approach. She stood in a circle of the men and one woman who had escorted her to theoretical safety, but none of them stepped any closer. Did they think she was dangerous?
She turned her gaze to Brand. “What next?”
“Couldn’t bring her here safely on your own, rogue?” The owner of the raspy voice, more a hiss, obviously intended his words to be a joke, as he followed them with a chuckle. But as Kasia turned to face him, she caught the sneer on his pale lips, the coldness in his blue eyes.
“I guess not,” Brand replied.
The other man, the only one seemingly brave enough to approach them, flicked a glance toward Brand in a way that reminded Kasia of prey trying not to look a predator in the eye, then he stepped up to Kasia’s other side, away from Brand.
Realization dawned. They’re not afraid of me, they’re afraid of Brand.
A glance at his face showed him to be totally closed off. Although that seemed to be his resting face most of the time. Was this how he got treated anytime he showed up here?
Was it because he wasn’t a blue dragon, or because he was rogue? Come to think of it, had any rogue dragon managed to rejoin a clan, especially a clan not his own? Her mother hadn’t covered that topic in detail. Rogues were unusual, as far as she understood, because mostly dragons killed, rather than banished, their criminals and opponents.
Maybe she was reading too much into this. The other man’s greeting had been more a taunt than anything. The man turned shrewd eyes her way, and she held back a sneer of her own as he ran his gaze over her, as though inspecting chattel. Not that she looked her best—probably appearing pale and still shaken up, her hair in an almighty tangle. At least she’d braided it this morning, though the wind had still snatched at the strands so that loose tendrils stuck out all over her head, falling into her eyes and tickling her neck.
He might be a striking man, with a chiseled face and a powerful kind of grace to his body highlighted by the pewter gray power suit he wore, but he obviously knew it, if the strut was anything to judge by.
Please don’t let this be Ladon.
“You must be Kasia.” He bowed. “I am Chante, the king’s Viceroy of the Reserve.”
Translation, the guy in charge of the money. She waited for more information, but he seemed to think his name enough to impress her.
“Nice to meet you.” Was she supposed to curtsy? Use a title? “I apologize if there is some etiquette I’m unaware of. I wasn’t raised among dragons.”
“Of course.” He stepped closer. “A phoenix. We haven’t seen one in hundreds of years.”
Was she mistaken about the greedy light in his eyes? This was what her mother had warned her about. Those who saw her only for the value she could bring them.
“I’m aware,” she replied. At the same time, she stepped back to stand beside Brand, hid
ing a shiver of apprehension.
You’re being an idiot, she told herself. Chante was probably a good guy underneath the show he was putting on. But instinct warned her that wasn’t the case, so she made a mental note not to be alone with the guy. Ever.
A hush fell over the crowd of about thirty gathered on the platform. From the shadows of the massive cavern, a man appeared.
A man she’d seen before.
Dressed in utilitarian black pants and shirt instead of the tailored suit from her visions, the power he radiated wasn’t for show. No, he practically screamed danger.
This had to be the king. Ladon Ormarr.
He was undeniably handsome in a hard sort of way, not unlike Brand, but dark in contrast with thick, jet black hair that had a curl to it, a cleft in his chin, and blue eyes, particularly striking against his deep olive-toned skin. A blue-eyed gaze that locked in on her like a laser.
Her first impression was one of brutality. This was a man who could unleash violence at any moment and feel nothing about it afterward.
Ladon said nothing as he approached, stopping directly in front of her. Chante stepped back with an obsequious little bow. She locked down the urge to roll her eyes and glanced at Brand for guidance. What was she supposed to do?
He gazed back with that closed expression. No help forthcoming.
So she drew herself up to her full height, tipped her chin up, and waited while Ladon Ormarr seemed to study her. Not in the calculating way Chante had, more as though he were looking for something within her.
Finally, he smiled, an act that appeared more forced than sincere. The people around her shifted on their feet.
“Turn around,” he instructed. Demanded, more like.
His first words to her, uttered in a voice that matched his appearance—dark, gravelly, and dangerous. She didn’t take offense; however, she wasn’t one to blindly obey, either. “Why?”
A muscle twitched close to his eye, along the scar that ran the length of his face. Not a man used to being questioned. He didn’t ask again, indicating with his hand that she should turn. A silent command.
She did as bidden only to connect with Brand’s watchful golden gaze.
Ladon lifted her heavy braid away from her neck. Was he going to try to mate her right now? Didn’t there have to be sex involved?
She stiffened. So did Brand. Subtly. She doubted anyone else caught it. A low growl rumbled from him…only, she was pretty sure he hadn’t made an audible sound. Had she heard a thought? No one else glanced his way.
With a small puff, Ladon blew a rush of fire over the back of her neck where a mating brand would show one day. Out of instinct, she tried to jerk away, but he held tight to her shoulders, and she watched in fascination as the blaze crawled down her arms and a faint glow appeared under her skin—a swirling design that grew brighter with each passing moment.
Feathers. Like a tribal tattoo with breathtaking, delicate markings on each.
A rush of heat bloomed inside her, pushing up from deep in her core. The sensation spread from her center outward until her own fire poured out of her to join the king’s.
A gasp ran through the dragons gathered around them. Kasia raised her gaze to Brand, who watched in silence, his lips pressed together in a tight line.
“What does it mean?” she asked, irritated with the way her voice wouldn’t quite work properly. It wasn’t every day a girl sprouted fire wings.
Brand’s gaze traveled over the flames consuming her, raising above her and swirling around her, forming wings of flame on either side of her. “You are the phoenix.”
…
Brand trailed behind the procession of dragons as Ladon led Kasia through the massive cavern system the Blue Clan considered their hub and home base. Originally, this clan had used the natural caves already hollowed out by time and the elements, but over the centuries, they’d expanded them and built them into what equated to an underground city with the opulence of a French palace, complete with a system of mirrors which brought natural light inside, penetrating the dark, though only dimly today given the gray weather outside.
Riches had paid for the decor, thanks to millennia of dragons hoarding gold. The human myths of their kind got that much right. The Spanish explorers looking for El Dorado simply hadn’t looked on the right continent or deep enough. Not that they would ever have gotten far enough to find the dragons’ stash. These days, the Blue Clan’s vaults were practically hollow—the legacy of Thanatos’s betrayal—and their poverty was revealed through a general air of neglect.
“What do you think of your new home?” Ladon’s question to Kasia floated back to Brand as they paused at yet another dragonsteel door, which required a scanned handprint or some other form of secure feature to unlock.
They’d added more security since he was here last. Higher tech, too.
“It’s quite…impressive,” Kasia answered.
Brand smiled at her polite response. He’d bet dimes to dollars that she wasn’t all that impressed by the decor. While the caves were overwhelming on sheer scale, he doubted the uber-posh style of decoration was her style, though many of the valuable pieces appeared to have gone missing. He had no idea why he knew she wouldn’t care. He just did.
Maybe the way she hadn’t even blinked at the crappy motel he’d chosen, or the run-down beach house she’d woken up in after the motel incident, provided the clue. Or maybe because he considered it ostentatious.
Vague memories of a rougher, more rustic system of caves in another country, where he’d been born and raised—at least until his family had been taken from him and he’d had to run—felt more like home than this palatial grandness left over from kings before Thanatos. Though what Uther had done with Brand’s home since then wasn’t worth contemplating.
Of course, beyond wanting to restore his clan to its former glory, Ladon probably didn’t give a rip. The king just didn’t know that Kasia wouldn’t be impressed, either.
A petite woman with thick black hair, dressed in body-hugging athletic wear in hot pinks with glitter, sashayed up to him. “So you found yourself a phoenix.”
Brand kept walking. “I found her for the king, Arden.”
A smirk graced her lips. “That’s what I meant.”
Sure, she did. He’d known Arden since she was a girl, and her favorite pastime was trying to get him to emote.
“Do you think he’ll give you a place among us?” she mused.
“You tell me. He’s your brother.”
Up ahead, Ladon pointed out a room, and Kasia tipped her head to look inside as they passed, but then glanced quickly back, her eyes searching those around her until her gaze landed on him.
She quickly looked forward. No smile or acknowledgment, but she’d been searching for him, he knew it. And he shouldn’t like it, dammit.
“Brand.” Arden rested a hand on his forearm, pulling him to a stop.
He reluctantly paused, and together they waited as the entourage turned a curve in the tunnel, leaving them alone.
She pinched his arm.
“Ouch,” he protested, rubbing the spot.
“I haven’t seen you in ages. Talk to me.” She gave a pout that he was sure worked on other men. Not sexy, more little girl lost in the woods. As a rare female-born dragon, Arden had grown up in the unusual position of having lots of male attention, but none romantically serious. Male dragons didn’t bother to mate female-born. The fact that they were sterile made them a dead end.
As far as he could tell, Arden had made it her goal to compete in a male-driven society and used her femininity to manipulate the poor male saps around her. Only he saw her coming a league away.
Now a more speculative light glowed in those turquoise eyes of hers. What was she thinking? That as a rogue he might be desperate enough to mate her? Didn’t she realize that, together, they’d be the lowe
st rung on the totem pole?
“It’s not smart to get chummy,” he reminded her.
Arden tipped her head, then laughed. “Ever the plotter.” She backed away, lips tilted in a teasing smile. “How long do you intend to stay?”
“That depends on the king.”
“Huh. Well don’t leave without saying goodbye. And don’t be a stranger while you’re here.”
He shook his head as she happily sauntered away. “Ladon needs to find you a keeper,” he called after her departing form.
“He tried,” she called back over her shoulder. “He says I’m so badass I scare them off.” She kept walking, her black hair swinging in a ponytail, and flipped him off.
Following the sounds of low murmured voices, Brand made his way after the king and his soon-to-be queen. Only, when he got to a large common room, Ladon was there, but Kasia was missing. Like before, when Ladon had dared to bare her neck, a sacred spot reserved for mates, Brand had to fight back a growl.
The only thing that had stopped him was the lack of a mark that was supposed to show on her neck with the heat. When fire was applied to the back of a potential human mate’s neck, a design would appear temporarily. Every male was born with the mark of his family already on his neck, which was why Brand wore his hair long. He didn’t need other dragon shifters knowing who his family was. Not even Ladon knew.
The human women who showed dragon sign—smoke, small fires, or shifting small parts of themselves—would show the sign of their destined mate’s house on their neck when dragon fire was applied. He wasn’t sure what that meant for Kasia, who had shown no such mark; instead, only the feathers marking her as a phoenix had appeared. He’d heard that a phoenix had to choose her mate. Maybe that was true.
And he shouldn’t give a damn. In a mere handful of days, he’d become way too possessive of her. He’d even hit a point where he didn’t like her out of his sight, like right then when he’d expected her to be in the room. Brand shook off the feeling, one he was sure he’d get over quickly—he’d have to—and strode toward the king.
The space could not be described as a throne room, exactly. A massive fireplace and hearth were placed at each end—a feat of engineering in caves, but worth it for dragons. Groupings of couches and chairs and a few long tables with seats, all in shades of blue, of course, formed smaller seating and meeting areas throughout the larger space.